Overture To Avatar: A Vignette
by dreamshell
Summary: A comparison of two characters' reckless attitudes. One humorous, one deadly. Twoinoneshot.


Overture To Avatar: A Vignette

A little bald boy with blue arrow tattoos laughs, sitting on his spinning sphere of skystuff as it propels him from one end of the temple courtyard to the other. His fellow airbending students duck and jump out of the boy's way accordingly, just avoiding collision. The boy stands up showily on his etheric orb, whirling along with it like a child-sized top. From above, a monk peers out a window, observing the scene while sipping a fresh cup of tea.

Overconfident, the boy leaps up to swap his feet with his hands and in the midst of his trick is hurled off the airball and into a stone wall, his hairless head hitting it with a seismic _GLUMFPH_! His friends gasp in shock and the globe of tamed vapor quickly dissipates as the boy lies inert on the courtyard floor, groaning in confused pain. The monk nearly drops his cup and moves closer to the window, fearful.

_If he is hurt_..., he shudders to think.

The other airbenders rush to examine their friend, whispering to each other, proclaiming him comatose, dead, and of course, completely insane.

The boy sits up suddenly, rubbing a new bruise on the back of his tattooed head. The others ask him if he's alright and he offers a simple, wide grin. Before his friends can blink, he's woven together strands of airstream to make a new orb for himself, hopped on, and is giving his stunt another go. The students watch on, shouting words of encouragement and disbelief.

Above, the monk presses his lips tightly together to contain a hearty laugh and his mouthful of tea. Sighing in relief, he swallows the drink and gazes down again at the students. He sees that he has caught the boy's eye. The monk waves, smiling warmly.

_Our future on the shoulders of a reckless little boy_, he thinks and chuckles. _Spirits help us_.

The boy waves back and laughs again.

—

The young prince's eyes narrow as he launches another wave of flames at his opponent. A reasonably skilled firebender soldier, the prince's training partner brings his forearms together, blocking the attack with his gauntlets. He then retaliates with a devastating blaze of his own. The noble youth is knocked backwards by the intense heat and falls onto the deck of his ship.

Sitting at a small table playing one of his little games, the Dragon of the West peers up at the training session and advises the prince, his nephew, to focus more on defensive maneuvers.

The prince gets up to his feet and scowls at the former army general. He ignores the old man and baits the soldier into another round. The armored man hesitates a moment before the younger man's threats and insults inspire his obedience. The two of them settle into their stances and prepare.

Before the underling has a chance to raise a hand, the prince comes rushing towards him, uttering a warrior's cry and sending forth a barrage of fireballs. The soldier tries to retreat, to forfeit, but the young noble's fervor does not wane. His arms move too quick for the eye, creating elaborate circles and loosing an inferno at his victim.

The fire gleams in his uncle's widened eyes. He watches as the prince's antics force the soldier to jump off the ship and plunge into the sea, lest he cook inside his singed panoply. The other officers on the deck look to each other, then to him, their blank skull masks seemingly asking what they should do.

_My nephew's inner fire consumes him_, the general muses as he slowly rises to his feet. He moves across the ship towards the prince as he continues hurling one fireball after another down at the soldier thrashing wildly in the water. He settles his hands on the young man's shoulders and almost at once the frenzy subsides. The prince's fists fall to his hips and he turns to his uncle, his scarred face taut with conflict. He gazes down at his feet, ashamed.

The old man nods, understanding, and ponders aloud whether or not his nephew's desperate search for the evasive bending master is worth all the suffering. He suggests that it might be better if he give up the futile mission.

The young prince's eyes become serpentine slits and he pushes his uncle's hands away. He walks passed the old general, staring out at the ocean ahead, and orders the other soldiers to recover their companion from the water.

Quietly to himself, the scarred prince once again vows to find the one whose capture will win back his honor.

_I will find you, Avatar_…


End file.
